Car Wreck
by autumnangelwrites
Summary: It was all fun and games until Tim hit a bird and plummeted out of the sky.


**a/n:** _So this one isn't my best, but I could_ not _get this image out of my head. Hopefully it's still enjoyable anyway._

* * *

 **19\. Car Wreck**

"Shit."

Smoke was rising from the hood of the car, and even without his high I.Q., Tim knew that automatically categorized the situation as _not good._ He stared, still reeling from the crash and not quite registering the level of panic that the problem at hand warranted. He felt like he had the appropriate reaction to such an event, however, so he repeated his curse.

" _Shit."_

He had crashed the Batmobile.

He had crashed the Batmobile into a _fucking bank._

The situation immediately rose to _very not good_ status. This was _so very not good._

The shock dissipated and Tim was left with nothing but full-blown panic. Bruce wasn't even in Gotham—away on some publicity stint for W.E.—and he was completely going to flip his shit when he found out that anyone had taken the Batmobile out without his permission. Tim hadn't even managed to _stop any crime,_ he had just accidentally floored the damn vehicle into The First National Bank of Gotham. High I.Q. indeed.

 _Fucking shit._

Tim took slow, deep breaths, and tried to approach his problem logically. Ignoring the rational part of himself was exactly what lead to his current predicament, and he was _not_ about to make that same mistake twice. Scrubbing a hand over his face—which nearly tore off a corner of his mask, fucking _ow—_ Tim scrambled for a good explanation for his actions.

And then stopped.

There wouldn't have to be an explanation if no one knew he was here.

Staring at bank, Tim concluded that that idea was pretty much worthless. Okay, he could roll with this, he could outsmart any problem. Critical thinking was his _bitch._

So, onto the next option: blame someone else.

Tim grinned to himself. Jason would make a great scapegoat.

* * *

" _Why the fuck are you yelling at me?"_ Jason's heated tones—aka, banshee level screams—were easy to discern, even from the very top of the staircase that descended down to the Cave. Tim tried to hide his glee, even though there was no one to see him—Batman saw everything, after all—but he couldn't help the pleased smirk that flashed across his face. Bruce hadn't suspecting a thing.

" _This is unacceptable behavior! You should know better than this, Jason! Not only did you cause an incredible amount of damage to one of the most valuable resources Batman has, but you also put all of our identities at risk by wheeling it back here!"_

Sure, Tim felt kind of bad that Jason was taking all the heat, especially since he and the second Robin were starting to get a bit friendlier, but priorities were priorities. Staying off of Batman's shit list was definitely Tim's priority.

He schooled his expression into something resembling unease as he descended the last few steps, holding up a coffee cup when both Damian and Dick whirled around to stare at him. They were (intelligently) staying out of sight, crouched behind some of Bruce's large mementoes in a dark(er) corner of the Cave. Dick immediately relaxed a bit, innocent as always, but Damian tensed up further and gained a suspicious glint in his eye.

 _Damn demon brat._

"Jason's really done it this time," Dick whispered, despite the fact that the shouting match taking place a few feet away would easily mask his words. "I can't believe he would do something like this to Bruce, even after all that's happened. Have you even seen today's paper?"

Without waiting for an answer, Dick whipped out the paper in question. It was easy to see what caught his attention. In large, dark font, the front page screamed, ' _ **GOTHAM'S DARK KNIGHT TAKES A STAND AGAINST CITY'S HISTORIC NATIONAL BANK, ATTACKING FROM ABOVE. MOTIVES UNKNOWN.**_ '

 _Goddamnit._ Of _course_ Vicki Vale would know about it. _Of course._

"It _is_ pretty strange," Tim replied. Apparently that was all that was needed from him, because Dick began frantically pacing the small, shadowed area he and Damian had commandeered, worrying the paper in his hands and murmuring to himself.

Tim was so preoccupied with watching his older brother, he didn't notice his youngest steadily creeping toward him until he was on the receiving in on a viciously powerful kidney punch.

"Fucking, _ow,"_ Tim hissed. Even in blinding pain, every Robin knew not to alert an angry Batman of his presence.

Damian, the little hell spawn, just crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

" _What?"_

"You forget exactly whose car it was that you crashed, Drake," Damian stated coolly, not even bothering to keep his voice down. Tim straightened, glaring.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, kid. Jason was the one that broke your shiny little project."

" _Todd_ does not have the brain cells to even begin to understand how to engage flight without strict and simplified guidance." Damian narrowed his eyes. " _You_ , however, have just enough brain cells to rub together. Also, Todd would never hit something midair and plummet down the distance that it would have taken to hit the bank with that amount of force just to _prove a point._ He has a much less subtle approach."

"Aww, Dami, are you accusing Tim of the thing with the Batmobile again?" Dick was back, looking much more at peace now that he had someone to mother hen. He placed a reassuring hand on Damian's shoulder, which the younger boy immediately shrugged off. "We're going to fix the Batmobile, and you'll even be able to install all of those modifications you've been planning at the same time, which will make it even _better._ Don't blame the accident on Tim just because you underestimated Jason's grudge against Bruce!"

Tim saw a perfect out, and he was not ashamed of how fast he took it. Huffing in a melodramatic fashion, he shoved the almost forgotten cup of coffee at Dick and pivoted towards the stairs.

"I can't even believe you would suggest such a thing, Damian. I came down here to give Bruce some coffee and try to calm him down, but if you're going to be a _diva_ about the whole thing, I guess I'll just leave." He exited swiftly, unaffected by Dick's pleas for his return.

And if he shivered after an ominous " _I will_ _ **end**_ _you,"_ floated up the stairs, he could always just blame it on the natural chill of the Cave.

* * *

 **end notes:** _I am incapable of writing a serious fic starring Tim, and I am so sorry for that. He's growing on me, though, so hopefully I'll be able to fix that one day. One more prompt to go! Then my challenge will be complete!_


End file.
